Team Feltus went to the pediatrician yesterday for the 2 month check up. I, being a little neurotic about a few childhood issues I had, listed my concerns about ear infections and such to our Doc. The wee one has no sign of any health problems. In fact, he is little Mr. 95th percentile in height and weight. Not that I was really surprised to learn that. He is a giant baby ( High five to anyone who just pictured me walking a giant troll baby with a diaper on towering over everything. I did.). More often then not I have to politely let people know he isn't 3 months or older as they guess away. The looks I get are pretty funny and range from shocked to confused. "Yes, he is a big boy." "No, really. He is 2 months. As of last Thursday." "Nope. Not feeding him steroids." It is interesting what quips come out. The fun part is trying to dodge strangers when they begin epic tales of their children ( mostly grown and leaving said individual with "empty nest syndrome" thus making me a dump zone of their verbal diarrhea). Not to say I don't care WHEN IT'S SOMEONE I KNOW. Those of you know I love you and your children and find your stories funny. Because I KNOW YOU. It's the crazy lonely old bat at Red Robin that yells "HEY! HEY! When my daughter, blah blah blah yaddah yadda woohoopoopoo............." ( I stopped listening when I realized she wasn't calling over to tell me I dropped a binky on the floor or something actually helpful or important) that I don't care to chat with. I mean seriously. I am not the most approachable person when trying to eat for starters (Advice:never get between me and food). And interrupting quality time with my Dad and Husband is just plain rude. Not to mention that I didn't say hello or even make eye contact with this lady. So why the crap does she strike up conversation as though we are old pals? After getting trapped at the store while a cashier cooed and Aidan and rambled on as she held my receipt hostage, I practiced evasive tactics like there was going to be a test with a punishment if I failed ( the punishment would have been the gauntlet of old nanny goats working at Fred Meyer that I have to bob and weave through with my head down hoping my kid doesn't giggle or make eye contact which would cause them to flock to us as I run for the door).
Anywho. The Dr visit went fantastic. Even the immunization part at the end (where doc gets to be Mr. Nice Guy and ditch out as the calm nurse gets to be the hated stabber). Aidan screamed for just a couple minutes and then silent lip quiver for a few more seconds followed by hugs from Daddy and the some clinging to the Momma ( after my stomach settled from the thought of needles stabbing my poor baby) and a couple smiles even. What a great kid. He really didn't fuss too much through the night even with a little temp ( could have been the 97 degree weather that did not cool even a skosh it seemed, till about 2 am). And this morning he woke up and snuggled with me (and tried to punch and kick Daddy awake. hehehe) like nothing traumatic happened yesterday at all. *sigh* Thank goodness for the memory capacity of a 2 month old.
Off to Baby's R Us. Because it's one of the only places where no one cares how cute your kid is. Either they have seen 786 of them this week and are desensitized to cute due to employment there, or they are dog tired and toting one around themselves. It's like a reprieve for us moms with insanely cute babies. I mean really, it can be overwhelming pushing around all that adorableness. Quite draining. :) I joke but it is nice there because it's a common baby-momma-mecca. Like Target ( but Target has yahoos that come over and want to touch the kiddo. And that makes me all slappity).